The Doctor Weighs In

I’m writing this post at 37,000 feet. I am in United Airlines Flight 95, Seat 20A, an aisle seat in the back of the plane. I hate aisles. I hate the back of the plane. I hate United Airlines. I am not in a good mood.

Seat 20 A. This is My Space for the next 6 hours. It is the “space” I purchased from United Airlines (UAL) to transport my body from glorious New York City via Newark back to my home near San Francisco. My Space is about 16 inches wide, armrest-to-armrest. My knees are touching the seat in front of me even though I am only 5 feet 3-1/5 inches tall. The back of my forward neighbor’s seat touches my forehead if I lean forward a bit. So, I have cranked my seat “all the way back.” Now, my seat bumps my backward neighbor when he leans forward. We are a cozy bunch, but I am not in a good mood.

I have two sleeping bodies between me and the aisle, although both are pretty reasonably sized, thank heavens. I think it means I can escape My Space if I really have. But I have to time it just right. The seat belt sign is on until the beverage service starts. There’s no getting up until they are finished. It is almost impossible to wriggle out of My Space if my tray has a half-full drink, so I am careful to drink my beverage all the way down before attempting to move. Oh, no!  They just turned the seat belt sign on. Trapped, again! I am really not in a good mood.

I decide to vent. I am a blogger. Blog and vent. Vent and blog. That will make me feel better. But, I can’t fully open up my teeny, weeny Sony Vaio computer in My Space. So I suck in my tummy and pull the computer onto my lap. I will write and vent and vent and write.

“United Airlines, I hate you! And, you hate me.” Your space, that you rented to me for 6 hours for My Space, makes me sick. You make me sick. Did I mention that I am in a very bad mood?

Ok, here we go, let me count the ways you, UAL, make me sick:

1. On the way to the airport, on the New Jersey railroad, I called you to see if I could get on an earlier flight. After ten frustrating minutes of talking to the Electronic Voice Guy, he finally apologizes for not understanding the difference between the words “yes” and “no.” Yessssssss. And, noooooo. He transfers me to a busy signal and there is no way to back out of it. I have to hang up. Oh, no. Blood pressure rising…deep breath…just dial again…and try a new tact. This time, I refuse to answer Electronic Voice Guy’s questions. It works. EVG transfers me to a real human being in India. But, she has trouble with my accent. “Salber, what is your last name?” What Flight? Number 95, cancelled, no other flights.” What? What! What!!!

2. I am at the airport. What are my options? Hmmmm. Flight 95 is not, never was, and will not be cancelled. Was the telephonic notification of cancellation just a little United Airlines humor? “What if we tell her that her flight is cancelled? What do you think she will do? Hahahahahahaha.”

3. Once at the UAL ticket kiosk, I try to get an upgrade, although I know that, on a bad weather day—or any other day --  it is foolish to even imagine you can snag an upgrade. The computer plays with me though. It accepts my offer of 15,000 frequent flier miles in exchange for the tantalizing thought of a First Class Space. When I check it out with the real life person in the UAL lounge, she laughs out loud, “no way, no way, no way are YOU (you lousy United flier without any Premier status) going to get an upgrade.”

4. The computer at the kiosk also offered me the opportunity to buy 5 more inches of Space at $10 an inch, but only for a middle seat. Now, I admit it.   I am cheap.  But this is not about the money. It is the principle of the thing. I am going to pay to switch to a middle seat? No way. I would rather suffer in the back, in an aisle, in My 20A Space.

5. Time to board. I am in boarding group #2. Do not, do not dare get in line if you are not boarding group #1. But, I worry, if I am not at the front of boarding area #2, I will have to check my carry-on bag. Please, god of the airlines, don’t let this happen to me.

6. We are queued up, passengers as sheep, awaiting permission to board. The ground staff announces, we are going to board this plane in 6 minutes, if we don’t board all of you in 6 minutes, booms the male ground staff voice, we could be delayed and there is a storm coming. You know what that means. Say no more. We, sheep, hurry, in place, as fast as we can.

7. On board, the flight attendant repeats over and over, please step into your row and then arrange your luggage in the overhead space. Step into your row, don’t block the aisle, let the other passengers pass. The big guy in the middle of the plane apparently couldn’t hear her, he has stuff to find in his briefcase that he has already placed in the overhead compartment. So I politely say, mimicking the flight attendant, excuse me, could you step into your row so I can pass by? Rummage, rummage, rummage. I wonder what he is looking for. The crowd behind me is getting restless. Please, sir, can you step into your row so we, all of us, can pass by. Maybe, he is deaf. I gently touch his back, no response. Eventually, voila, he finds “it” and praise the lord, sits down in his seat.

8. “Please don’t put your coats in the overhead. This is a full flight, please help out your fellow passengers by putting your small carry-on in the seat below.” Right. Coats, purses, hats and small bags abound, there is no room in the overhead for a wheelie. No help from a flight attendant. I guess we passengers are supposed to duke it out ourselves. Did I tell you I am in a really, really bad mood.

9. The threat again. If you don’t all sit down soon, we may get stuck here. There is a storm coming. If you don’t sit down, we may get stuck in Newark. Oh my god, fear and loathing, stuck in Newark!

10. Now medical people know that sitting without moving for six hours increases the risk of developing blood clots in the veins of the legs. These clots can be dangerous and even fatal if they break off and lodge in the blood vessels that feed your lungs (aka, a pulmonary embolus). Medical experts recommend moving your legs periodically during a long flight to keep your circulation moving. It helps to prevent the clots. It’s even better if you can get up and walk. Forget it. There is not going to be any walking on this flight. I try wiggling my toes instead.

11. I am on a six hour flight at dinner time. You, UAL, said we could buy food on board and I believed you. Ok, so I am gullible. Your idea of dinner is a bag of potato chips, a slice of chicken on a cold dry bun all wrapped elegantly in saran wrap. Not exactly a crowd pleaser, but then, I am not sure that pleasing crowds is on your radar screen.

Between my husband and me, modestly crazy frequent fliers, we have stored up more than a million UAL frequent flier miles. Of course, we can’t really use them anymore, because you (UAL), in your (cunning) wisdom, have restricted the number of seats available for “free” travel to less than zero. We have tried to book award travel a year ahead of time, we have tried to book in the low season, we have tried to travel to some pretty unpopular places, but the answer is always the same…"Sorry, all of our award travel seats are booked (you fools, you)."

UAL, I hate you and you hate me. There is not a doubt about it. 

 One of my most vivid experiences on your sorry airline, back in the days when I traveled on business a lot, was being told that “I was only a low 1K traveller.” Let me translate that UAL-talk for you. "Hey, you, passenger. You have only flown a bit over 100,000 miles this year. Why in the blazes should I care about you? I have real 1K travelers to “attend” to. " That little story  says it all. You have no idea where your bread and butter is coming from …a pretty sad state of affairs for what used to be a GOA (grand old airline).

Hey UAL, I hope we, the flying public, have sent you a strong message all the way to bankruptcy. We have choices. Some airlines care about their customers (Southwest Airlines and Continental come to mind) and their customers care about them (take a SWA flight sometime and check out how happy their flying public is and how well they are treated by SWA staff, even if they are on a super-discounted ticket. These people-friendly airlines care about all of their customers, not just the top 0.01% of their customers. They know that lowly 100,000 mile fliers (and even lowlier (if there is such a word?) 10,000 mile fliers) are a good source of recurring revenue.

I am not sure you really care, UAL, but I hate you (and I know that you hate me).

Signed,

Patricia Salber, MD, MBA, AFC*

*a former customer